


An Unspoken Deal

by TheWeirdDane



Series: The Gift That Keeps On Giving [2]
Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time Bottoming, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 06:37:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17340416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Solomon Wreath can't shake the mental images of Valkyrie Cain and Skulduggery Pleasant. Least of all, however, can he shake the feelings he's begun harboring for the obnoxious skeleton detective, and in a fit of desperation, he tries to settle the score once and for all.





	An Unspoken Deal

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, there wasn't supposed to be so much of this, but now I'm kinda stuck in solduggery/skugwreath hell???

Solomon Wreath didn’t usually bother with the mortals’ habits of drinking alcohol. He thought it way beneath him. Getting tipsy, or worse yet, drunk, was not something he pursued. It was first of all a waste of money, and second of all it was just plain stupid. He had heard too many tales of mortals - and sorcerers, for that matter - who had consumed a glass of alcohol too much and did something they ended up severely regretting.

No, Solomon Wreath was above all that.

At least that was what he had thought.

Ever since the fight with Skulduggery Pleasant in his room at the Temple, Solomon had found that he couldn’t stop thinking about the skeleton detective. Neither could he stop thinking about Valkyrie Cain. It was quite a predicament he was in, really - both humans made something akin to lust and need bubble in his chest. He loathed that feeling, especially because he knew there was nothing to do about it. Sure, he could take care of it himself, but that was nothing - _nothing_ \- compared to what he had felt a week ago, when he and Skulduggery had shared Valkyrie.

Now he sat in a shoddy pub, nursing a pint of beer and glowering at the other patrons. They all looked so happy. Most of them, anyway. Sure, some of them looked about ready to commit murder or arson, but that didn’t matter much to Solomon. The only thing that mattered was his beer and the phone in his hand. He had Valkyrie on speed dial and could call her up so easily.

The more he thought about it, the better idea it seemed, and the less he wanted to do it. He was a smart man - he knew it was the alcohol talking, that it wouldn’t _actually_ be a good idea to call Valkyrie when he was drinking.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Skulduggery’s hand on his cock - his broad fingers that slid up and down the shaft, smearing pre-cum over the head. His snide comments, uttered in _that voice_. The way he made lust burn in Solomon’s heart and made it hard to breathe, made him want to tear at his skin until the feelings _stopped_.

Alongside the lust and desire, there was anger. Anger that his enemy could make him feel so good. Anger that another man could make his heart ache. Solomon had only ever been with women. It had never occurred to him that men being intimate together was a thing.

However, now that he had tried it himself, he thought he could understand the appeal. He thought that a man could probably please a man better than a woman could - after all, who could better understand what felt good on a dick than one who was equipped with such a thing?

He knew that Skulduggery had liked it, too. His cock had been hard. He had made all sorts of sounds. He had kept talking through most of their fight - he wasn’t known to ever shut up.

Solomon downed the rest of his beer and with slightly blurred vision punched the numbers into the phone. Waited with bated breath.

“Wreath.” The voice in the other end sounded anything but pleased about the surprise call. Solomon peered down at the bottom of his glass, shoved it aside.

“I hate you,” he said, very real anger cutting an edge into his voice. Skulduggery sighed audibly and, by the sound of it, got up from a chair or sofa and started walking around.

“I assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

“I’ll be coming for you. Tonight.”

“Since when do enemies let each other know they’re coming? That sounds more like a date, and, forgive me, Wreath, but I’m just not that into you.” There was cold disdain in Skulduggery’s voice, and Solomon burst into a laugh. The other patrons looked over at him, but he didn’t care.

“Did you finally lose it?” the skeleton detective asked. Solomon hung up and went to the counter to get his glass refilled. He threw some coins on the counter and went back to his table where he sat for half an hour, gradually emptying his glass. Nobody came to bother him, not even to borrow a chair or ask for the ash tray.

It was nice.

When he had emptied his glass once more, he went to the counter and delivered it back. He wasn’t exactly drunk, but he could feel the effects of the alcohol. His vision was slightly hazy, and he felt… oddly giddy, yet calm. Definitely calm enough to not start a fight, even with his nemesis.

Solomon walked out of the pub, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground, and flagged down a cab.

“Cemetery Road,” he said to the driver. The man looked back at him with a bemused expression on his face.

“Go,” Solomon barked, and the driver hurried to put the car in gear and speed off.

The ride wasn’t very long and didn’t give him time to come up with a plan. He shrugged when he stood outside again, not noticing the cold. It was cold and damp in the Temple, what was a little outdoors cold to him? Nothing, that’s what.

He would wing it. He always did.

Solomon walked up the pathway to the front door and hammered his fist against the door. Several times. Probably more times than was necessary, but he didn’t care.

Skulduggery opened the door within half a minute. He looked anything but amused to see Solomon on his doorstep.

“Go away. Valkyrie isn’t here,” he said and was about to shut the door when Solomon whipped a bundle of shadows at the door and banged it open. He stepped inside and looked around. It appeared Skulduggery told the truth - there was no scent of food having been made in the last few hours, and there were no sounds from the living room or from upstairs.

Good.

“I will arrest you,” Skulduggery said and clicked his fingers, summoning small balls of flames into his hands.

“I’m so scared,” Solomon sneered and dodged the balls as they were thrown at him, instead sending tendrils of shadows against Skulduggery. Skulduggery flamed them and nearly hit the sofa in the process. Solomon smiled contemptuously and summoned more shadows that curled and slithered around his figure.

“I’m not here to fight.”

“Given how you’re attacking me, I find that very hard to believe,” Skulduggery said, yet he did stop throwing fire, instead began circling Solomon who sighed deeply and withdrew the shadows. It took Skulduggery a few seconds to extinguish the flames.

Solomon didn’t make another move to attack, but the skeleton detective kept circling him like a wolf would its prey. Solomon arched an eyebrow and followed him with his eyes, only turning his head when necessary.

“Then what are you doing here? You said on the phone you were coming for me. If not for a pathetic attempt at my life, then what are you--- oh.” Something suddenly seemed to fit together in Skulduggery’s head, and it made Solomon bristle.

“You have been drinking,” he said and stepped closer, sniffing in the air around Solomon who stood still as a statue, “three pints of beer. Not the good kind. You have my number, but never called me before our little, ah, arrangement a week ago, meaning you have something on your mind tonight. Something that can’t wait to be settled.”

Solomon managed a cold smile and turned his body to face Skulduggery.

“Very good,” he said and crossed his arms, “you almost impress me.”

“What do you want, Wreath? I don’t have the time nor the inclination to listen to your problems. That’s what therapists do. You should probably get a therapist. I think that would be good for you.”

Solomon scoffed. Therapists. He didn’t like those. He had been to his fair share of therapists once his parents found out he was a Necromancer, only back then, it had been priests. Doctors. People who thought it could be driven out of him. But it had only made him resent his parents and ‘head-doctors’, and it had made him cultivate and nurse his given powers instead of abandoning them. When his parents had found out that he hadn’t listened to priests’ advice and that he hadn’t dropped his Necromancy powers, they had promptly kicked him out.

He hadn’t been more than twelve years old. But all that was behind him now.

“Not a fan,” he said calmly, despite feeling light anger bubble in his chest, “but that’s rich, coming from you.” Skulduggery didn’t let the comment bite, simply looked at him.

“What do you want?” Skulduggery asked again. Solomon closed the space between them, and something in the air shifted. The skeleton detective snapped his fingers again, fresh flames dancing in his palms, but there was something in his gleaming, white face that revealed he wouldn’t be using them. Instead he just watched Solomon with caution.

Solomon’s throat suddenly seemed way too tight, his mouth too dry despite the beer. His vision was still slightly blurred, but his mind had never been sharper. It was atrocious to know that, even with the alcohol in his system, he felt in full control of what he was about to do.

“Put on your façade.” His voice, usually so level, calm, and smooth, had gone gruff. Skulduggery stiffened, and the caution mixed with confusion. Nonetheless, and for reasons Solomon didn’t know, he did as Solomon asked of him - he reached up to his collarbone and tapped the tattoo. Skin and meat began crawling onto his skull and body, pale and smooth. Hair grew beneath his hat. His eye sockets filled with eyes.

It all took less than thirty seconds before the façade was fully in place. Solomon watched him for a few extra seconds before he took a deep breath and, with anger gripping his heart, leaned in to press his lips against Skulduggery’s.

The skeleton detective immediately recoiled, shock written in every line of his face and gun in hand. Solomon hadn’t even noticed he had reached for the weapon.

“What,” Skulduggery whispered, “the _hell_ are you doing, Wreath?”

Solomon didn’t answer, instead pressed his open palm against Skulduggery’s crotch. The detective tensed but didn’t shoot. Solomon took that as a good sign. He began stroking up and down. Skulduggery just stood there, dumbfounded and, for once in his life, speechless.

Slowly, he lowered his gun.

“Wreath,” he said, confusion colouring his voice, “what---”

“Would you prefer we fight about it, just like last time?”

There was a very long silence before the detective answered.

“I would prefer if you got your hands off me.”

“The world isn’t perfect, Skulduggery.”

“Neither is your face. In fact, you’re quite hideous.”

Solomon burst out laughing and took a step forward, making Skulduggery take one back and lift his gun again.

“I think that’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I have my moments.”

Solomon took another step forward, and another, and another, until he had backed Skulduggery against the wall. They were so close that their breaths mingled - or would have, if Skulduggery needed to breathe - and Solomon closed the space between them by kissing the detective again. His palm was still against his crotch, rubbing and stroking lightly, and it seemed Skulduggery gradually got into it.

He didn’t return the kiss, but his cock still got half hard from Solomon’s hand, and Solomon dared a pleased smile. Solomon undid Skulduggery’s trousers and yanked them down around his knees, breathing heavily and mouth practically watering. He wasn’t going to use his mouth on Skulduggery unless he was forced to - his body shivered at the thought, and he made a note to delete that from his mind forever - so instead of dropping to his knees like some would expect, he used both hands after setting his cane aside. One hand stroked him while the other slid lower to cup his balls.

Skulduggery let out a strangled sound and leaned his head back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands grabbing at Solomon’s upper arms.

“I will have your head for this,” he grumbled, and Solomon chuckled breathily.

“Don’t you need the upper hand for that?” he asked and slid his closed hand loosely up and down Skulduggery’s slowly hardening cock. It was fantastic to see him like this, steadily losing his resolve, and Solomon felt his own dick find interest in the current events.

“I don’t see you fighting it,” he continued and gently squeezed the detective’s balls. He had no idea what other men liked, so he went with what he liked himself. It seemed to do the trick - Skulduggery cursed and bucked his hips, even if he very clearly didn’t mean to. It filled Solomon with glee, and he squeezed a bit firmer while his other hand slid up and down his cock.

“Get out of here,” Skulduggery said, his voice sounding the slightest bit strained.

“And miss my chance to see the great Skulduggery Pleasant lose himself to pleasure? I don’t think so.”

In the next second, Skulduggery splayed his fingers, and a gust of wind broke Solomon’s balance and he stumbled backwards. He cursed and was about reach for his cane to summon a fist of shadows, but Skulduggery manipulated the air again and sent him back against the sofa. He grabbed the back of it for balance and whirled around, about to swing his fist at an incoming Skulduggery, but the detective ducked and smacked Solomon on the cheek with a closed, gloved hand.

Solomon groaned as his head turned with the force, and his cock throbbed. Then there was a fist on his other cheek, and his head turned the other direction. He hissed and looked up at Skulduggery just as he was about to be punched again. At least that was what he had expected.

Instead, the fist loosened, and the hand grabbed his cock through his trousers. Solomon hissed between gritted teeth and glared at Skulduggery. The detective looked angry yet smug, clearly pleased with how the tables had turned.

Solomon had a hard time denying that he was pleased about it as well, even as frustration ate away at his heart.

“If this is how you want to do it,” Skulduggery whistled and undid Solomon’s belt, slid his trousers down to his ankles, “don’t expect to be topping.” Solomon’s heart skipped a beat, and it felt like his legs turned to jelly.

He grabbed the back of the couch for support as Skulduggery began stroking him. This was good, it was so very good. He almost moaned.

“When is Valkyrie due to come home?” he asked shakily and reached out a hand to stroke Skulduggery’s dick. The detective batted his hand away before roughly turning him around and bending him over the back of the sofa. This time, Solomon didn’t manage to contain the moan that rose up into his throat. He let it tumble out of his mouth as he was bent over, and instinct made him kick out at Skulduggery who expertly dodged.

“Not for quite some time,” Skulduggery replied coolly and stroked his cock at an agonizingly slow pace. Solomon wanted to punch him, but his hands were currently being pressed against the small of his back, and he was helplessly caught. The only thing he could do was kick out at the detective. “Why, do you want me to call her and tell her to get home?”

“No!” Solomon exclaimed, way too quickly, and felt his cheeks burn when gleeful laughter rose from Skulduggery’s throat. He tried backpedaling, but Skulduggery raised his voice.

“Want me all to yourself, do you?”

Solomon didn’t answer. Shame scorched his chest while lust pooled low in his belly. His face burned, and his vision was slightly hazy, but he was no longer sure if that was from the beers or from desire. He wrote it off as the alcohol. Wasn’t yet ready to admit that he found Skulduggery attractive. Didn’t need to feed his already massive ego. But it was only a matter of time before Skulduggery found out - he was, after all, a detective. One of the best, too.

He felt him lean in over him and fought a shiver. “If you move an inch, I _will_ shoot you,” Skulduggery whispered into his ear before cautiously letting go of his hands and dick. Solomon stayed perfectly still. There was a light creaking, then a soft whooshing sound. When Skulduggery touched him again, it was with warm and _naked_ fingers, and Solomon pressed his forehead against the sofa, hissing loudly.

Skulduggery’s fingers felt so bloody good, and Solomon’s cock was now completely hard. The fingers stroked him up and down, slowly and lightly, thumb brushing over his head and making his hips buck. A pitiful sound that would haunt him for decades slipped past his lips, and Skulduggery chuckled darkly.

“Where’s your determination now, I wonder,” he said and grabbed his hands with his free hand, pressing them against the small of his back again. Solomon kicked out at him but didn’t hit anything.

“You strike me as _weak_ , Wreath,” he continued and pumped him a bit harder and faster, and Solomon bit back a whine, refused to make such a disgraceful sound. He clenched his hands into fists, and his toes curled.

“That must be so humiliating, I reckon. Coming to your enemy for a shag. Can’t find anyone else who wants to, hm? I’m not surprised.” His hand slid over Solomon’s cock easily and slowly, making him pant. Maybe he even drooled a little.

“Just for the record,” Solomon managed and turned his head to glower at Skulduggery, “I still hate your guts.” Skulduggery didn’t look the slightest bit shocked or hurt. Solomon turned his head back to stare at the sofa.

“And just for the record, I like you a lot better when you’re not talking.” Then he squeezed Solomon’s balls firmly and began stroking him harder and faster, and Solomon gasped loudly before letting out a pathetic whimper. Most certainly another sound that would haunt him for decades to come.

“But I do like the sounds you make.”

“Piss… off,” Solomon whispered feebly and closed his eyes. He attempted yet another kick, and yet again, it was useless.

The hand disappeared. Skulduggery himself pulled back, and Solomon was about to turn around and punch his stupid face when Skulduggery grabbed him by the throat and squeezed tightly.

“Stay here,” he said, and his voice had dropped an octave - it nearly made Solomon come then and there - and his eyes glistened, “or you won’t get anything.”

They glowered at each other for a long moment. Solomon’s big lips curled up in a silent snarl, and his hands were still fists by his sides. Skulduggery straightened into his full height and clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around Solomon’s throat. Solomon swallowed heavily and cast his gaze downwards, slumping back against the sofa with a barely noticeable nod.

Skulduggery kept looking at him for a few seconds before he let go and walked to the stairs and ascended them. Solomon fought valiantly to get his breathing under control, but with no such luck. His mind was spinning and reeling, and his palms were getting clammy. He hated that.

A minute later, Skulduggery was back in the living room with a small bottle in hand. Solomon eyed it suspiciously before glancing at Skulduggery. He shrugged.

“It’s up to you whether or not I use it.” Solomon swallowed again and nodded towards the bottle. He didn’t trust his voice to function. His heart was beating somewhere near his throat, and he felt slightly nauseous. Maybe this had been a mistake, maybe he should call it off. Surely Skulduggery didn’t actually _want_ to go through with this, either? They were enemies, this was not something enemies did.

But then he was shoved up against the couch, and he hissed by the roughness, a delightful shiver wrecking his body. He turned so his back was against Skulduggery and spread his legs. The skeleton detective made an approving sound in the back of his throat.

The sound of a cap being flipped open. Then silence and no sensations until Skulduggery’s cold, slick fingers probed at his hole. Solomon gasped and jerked forward, but Skulduggery grabbed his shoulder with his other hand and pulled him back against his fingers.

It felt… weird. The fingers were slick, and while it felt nice to have his rim played with, he wasn’t sure if he liked it all that much. He opened his mouth to announce this, but Skulduggery chose that exact moment to push a finger inside him, and Solomon gasped loudly, clutched at the back of the sofa. That felt decidedly weird, and yet, his body was buzzing pleasantly. Another shiver went through him, and he did his best to stay in place like Skulduggery wished.

His cock jerked, throbbing lightly.

Solomon cursed as Skulduggery pushed his finger all the way in before dragging it back and almost all the way out.

“How does it feel to give in to your enemy, Wreath?” Skulduggery asked, and he sounded way too smug.

Solomon would have loved to punch him, but he wasn’t sure there was enough strength in his body to make it worthwhile.

“Thought you… didn’t like me talking.” Skulduggery began thrusting his finger slowly but firmly, and a moan was wrenched out of Solomon. He buried his face in the sofa in the hopes that that would silence him. He was spectacularly wrong. Another guttural sound was pulled out of him when Skulduggery added another finger and moved them at the same slow but firm pace.

Solomon squirmed against the sofa, trying to pull away but also trying to push back against the fingers. He couldn’t decide if he liked this strange new sensation or not. It burned as his hole was stretched, and his body was definitely not used to this, and it tried forcing out the intruding objects by tightening up.

“If you don’t relax, it’s going to hurt a lot more than necessary,” Skulduggery said without an ounce of care in his voice.

“It’s my first time, give me some time to adjust,” Solomon snarled, and only when the words hung in the air did he realize what he had said. Skulduggery stopped moving, and Solomon closed his eyes tightly. He shouldn’t have said that. He really shouldn’t have said that.

“Your first time, and you’re doing it with me. Skulduggery Pleasant. Did you get a concussion? Did all the death magic finally make you insane?”

Solomon felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and he was angry that his cock still throbbed and bobbed heavily between his legs, as hard as ever. Skulduggery still didn’t move the fingers in his ass, but his other hand slowly inched its way towards the back of his neck. Solomon hung his head forward to allow the detective to grip it firmly. The grip was good, it was welcome. Gave him something else to think about than what he had just said. It was comforting.

Then Skulduggery began thrusting his fingers, harder and faster than before, pushing knuckle-deep into him. Each thrust ripped a gasp from his throat, and the more Skulduggery moved, the more the burning sensation dissipated. It didn’t exactly _hurt_ , but there was a slight, dull ache within him. Before long, the detective orchestrated a cacophony of sounds from his dry, parted lips, and he had added a third finger.

Solomon Wreath was a wreck. His legs were jelly, and his heart was beating so fast it made him queasy. His clammy hands clutched at the sofa, and his toes were curling painfully in his shoes. He was panting heavily, and his cock was leaking big fat drops of pre-cum that rolled down his shaft and made him squirm. Every single nerve ending was on fire, and every fiber of his being screamed with need for release.

The grip of the back of his neck loosened, and Solomon whimpered quietly, turned his head to look at Skulduggery. The man had an unreadable expression on his face.

He pulled out his fingers, and Solomon made another garbled sound that threatened to humiliate him beyond imagination. As it was, however, Skulduggery had gotten him to the point where he didn’t care. He could care in the morning.

“Look straight ahead,” Skulduggery ordered, and his voice was rough and didn’t leave an invitation to argue. Solomon nodded slightly and looked straight ahead.

There were a few seconds where nothing happened, and then he felt something slick and blunt press against his hole. He gritted his teeth, knowing full well that it was Skulduggery’s dick. His body tensed again.

“I told you to relax,” came the same rough voice from behind him, and Solomon cursed inwardly, took a few deep breaths, and forced himself to try and relax. He loosened his hands a bit and made his toes straighten again. Hung his head forward, slackened his entire body.

Then Skulduggery pushed forward, the hand once more squeezing the back of his neck, and Solomon secretly cherished it. He focused on the warm hand there, on his skin, focused on the broad fingers smoothing over the back of his neck. Focused on the way they squeezed firmly as Skulduggery slid into him. Solomon squirmed slightly and moaned, a long and loud wretched sound coming from deep within his belly.

“You really are a lot better when you’re not talking,” Skulduggery said, and Solomon managed to find an ounce of joy in the way his voice tremored.

“Right back at you,” he whispered, and it was but a shadow of his normally loud and confident voice. The hand slid from the back of his neck to grab him by the front of his throat, and Solomon gasped quietly. Skulduggery leaned up over him and placed his lips by his ears.

“I could so easily kill you, you know? Your life is literally in my hands. How does that feel?”

 _‘Amazing,’_ Solomon’s inner voice said, but he pushed that away and instead remained silent, letting his moans and grunts speak for themselves.

Skulduggery started a slow, gentle rhythm that rocked Solomon’s world and turned it upside down. He had felt pleasure before, absolutely, had even thought he had felt the best orgasms of his life. But this, right here, right now? A thousand times better. He felt full, and while the stretch of Skulduggery’s dick in his ass was slightly painful and left a dull ache, it was better than he had thought possible. He definitely saw the appeal now. Even without Skulduggery or himself touching his cock, he felt like he could come at any moment.

“Skulduggery,” Solomon moaned and was nothing short of mortified by how breathy and needy his voice was, dripping with urgency and want. Not to mention _whose name_ he had just moaned. Skulduggery gripped his throat tighter and may have let out a soft, strangled sound of his own.

The detective didn’t deign him a reply, but rather chose to increase his pace. He thrust harder and faster, and Solomon cursed, let out a ragged shout that was only a shadow of what it could have been, had his voice not been so messed up.

“Look at me,” Skulduggery then ordered, and Solomon turned his head so fast his neck made a series of pops and cracks. They looked into each other’s faces before Skulduggery tipped his face closer and kissed him.

If Solomon had thought his world was turned upside down before, it was nothing compared to this. The kiss was heady and made him lose all his bearings. He moaned the detective’s name again and clumsily pushed back against him. His lips were firm and demanding, and Solomon felt a little piece of his soul die by admitting how much he liked it.

He kissed eagerly and clumsily back, lifting a hand to grab the back of Skulduggery’s head. Immediately, his hand was brought down to the small of his back with a low, warning growl.

“Don’t,” was all that Skulduggery said, but it was enough to send jolts of pleasure straight to Solomon’s throbbing, leaking cock. While they kissed, Skulduggery gradually sped up his thrusts until Solomon had to break away to gasp air into his screaming lungs.

The pace was now hard and fast, bordering on rough, and he was bent over the back of the sofa with Skulduggery squeezing his throat tightly. Solomon was sure it would soon be too much, he would come soon, and his cock had barely been touched, and---

Something happened that made him see white, twinkling stars behind his closed eyes. He let out a loud, strangled moan and inadvertently pushed back against Skulduggery. Skulduggery had hit something inside him, something _good_ , and he could feel the heat in his belly start traveling lower, towards his cock.

“Skulduggery,” he all but whimpered, and writhed, squirming against the sofa and frantically rolling his hips.

“Do you want to get off?” Skulduggery asked him in a low voice, tickling his ear. Solomon nodded furiously and panted his name again. Then there was a hand in his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his throat. Solomon choked out a broken sound that was somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“Beg.”

“Are you kidding me?” It was the last coherent sentence he could make at the moment, and a light wave of indignation hit him. The hand yanked his head further back, threatening to snap his neck.

“I said, _beg_.”

“Skulduggery,” Solomon whispered and swallowed heavily, finally breathing freely now that the hand had gone into his hair, “Skulduggery, let me get off.”

“Why should I?” He sounded vaguely amused and heavily aroused. His voice was so low and deep. “You didn’t even say ‘please’.”

A frustrated grunt left Solomon’s lips, and despite the indignation in his chest, he was needy enough that he would obey every single one of Skulduggery’s orders.

“Please,” he whimpered, fingers digging into the soft cushions of the sofa, “please, Skulduggery, let me come, _please_!” His voice was so thin and airy, and if he had had more brain power, he would have loathed himself.

Skulduggery snapped his hips forward, and Solomon’s vision was once more filled with whiteness and twinkling stars, and a wretched moan rolled past his lips. Skulduggery hit that spot again, and again, and again, until Solomon was a babbling, incoherent mess. He was vaguely aware that he wasn’t making a lick of sense, and he was also vaguely aware that he was going to come any moment now.

“Please,” he whispered in desperation, his organs tucked into a tight knot that physically hurt, “please please please, let me come.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Skulduggery said gruffly and kept thrusting at the same rough pace, hitting that sweet bundle of nerves over and over again.

Solomon opened his mouth in a quick remark, but that final thrust did him in, and he instead came with Skulduggery’s name on his lips. His hips bucked uncontrollably, and his head was still yanked back so the shout became nearly a scream, shrill and loud. His heart beat aggressively in his chest, too fast, too irregularly, and he was certain he was about to die.

“Skulduggery, Skulduggery,” he panted and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His cock spurted out thick streaks of cum ending on the floor, and his knees threatened to give out. He felt his hole clench and pulsate rhythmically, and it was a most fantastic feeling that he chased for as long as he could.

When the whiteness and ringing in his ears finally subsided, and he was no longer coming, he opened his eyes, still panting heavily. His vision was fuzzy, and he blinked a few times to get everything back into focus. Skulduggery still thrust into him, and his hand had left Solomon’s hair to instead grab his hip. His other hand reached around to touch Solomon’s cock, and Solomon let out an almost pained shout, flinching away from the touch as well as he could.

Then Skulduggery’s hand closed around him, stroking him slowly. It soon became clear to Solomon that it wasn’t about his pleasure anymore - maybe it never had been - but rather about Skulduggery getting himself off.

“Stop,” he whispered and tried to squirm away from the grip, but Skulduggery took him firmly in hand and kept pumping him. More drops of cum leaked out the slit, and Solomon thought he was going to cry.

“Skulduggery, e-enough, please,” he insisted, but Skulduggery didn’t listen. He instead thrust roughly and deep, making Solomon’s body jerk with each move. Solomon gritted his teeth together and tried so hard to keep quiet, but desperate sounds escaped him every now and then when Skulduggery didn’t let go of his cock.

It took Skulduggery another two-three minutes to get off, squeezing and pumping Solomon all the while and managing to get him hard again.

“Take care of yourself,” Skulduggery growled and planted both hands on his hips to keep him steady as he thrust into him. Solomon obeyed and started stroking himself, trying to match the rhythm that Skulduggery had set. It proved to be impossible. His hand slid over his slick and throbbing cock while Skulduggery rammed into him, every now and then bumping against _that spot_ and making Solomon see stars once more.

When Skuldduggery came, it was with a breathy sound and then a sharp gasp before he moaned loudly, his hands squeezing Solomon’s hips tightly, possibly tight enough to leave bruises. Solomon followed suit not twenty seconds later, spilling himself for the second time that night.

Skulduggery chased his own release with a few stubborn and irregular thrusts before pulling out and leaving Solomon feeling oddly empty. His hole immediately tried to clench down around nothing, and it felt most curious. With no one to keep him upright anymore, Solomon’s legs finally collapsed beneath him, and he sank to the floor, leaning against the sofa and panting heavily. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to ever open them again.

“You sleep on the sofa,” Skulduggery said and took a step back, “and you’re out of my house before the sun rises. Is that clear?” Solomon nodded weakly and glanced up at him. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Skulduggery knelt in front of him. He half expected the detective to punch him but was pleasantly surprised when Skulduggery leaned in to kiss him deeply.

“Can’t wait to tell everyone at Sanctuary about this.” Solomon’s face heated up, and he let out an exasperated sound against Skulduggery’s lips, kissing him hungrily before the detective pulled back, a grin on his face.

“Naturally, Valkyrie will know first. It seems I won. Again.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Solomon grumbled, but he inwardly admitted defeat. He had gone out of his way to consume alcohol to get his courage up, then spent money on a cab to get him here, _and_ he had allowed Skulduggery Pleasant to fuck him?

It was clear that Solomon Wreath had feelings for and about the skeleton detective. Feelings he couldn’t run away from.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3


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